


This Isn't Just A Distraction

by unadulteratedstorycollector



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Partners, Claustrophobia, HP: EWE, M/M, Panic Attacks, small spaces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 10:38:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8529853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unadulteratedstorycollector/pseuds/unadulteratedstorycollector
Summary: Harry hates small space. Really hates them. So when he gets trapped in one with Draco Malfoy there's really only one thing that's going to happen...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marysiak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marysiak/gifts).



> I found this such a challenge to write, because apparently I write mainly fluff. Who knew? I didn't. marysiak, I hope you like it! I loved your prompt so much, I just wanted to do it justice. Sorry if it got a little too fluffy at the end...
> 
> Thanks to L for beta reading for me! Any mistakes are mine.

“This isn’t funny.” Harry glares at his Auror partner through the gloom as he listens to him practically chuckling. Malfoy’s blonde hair gleams and Harry can just about make out the glint in his storm grey eyes by the light of their lit wands. Wanker.

“Oh, but it is.” Malfoy takes a deep breath and straightens slightly, his voice smooth and deep and… fuck it. Malfoy is a prick. “It’s always you, isn’t Potter. You’re not happy unless something in your life is going wrong.” Harry can hear the disdain dripping from Malfoy’s words and his stomach twists. He tries to step away but his back hits the wall behind him.

“Fuck off, Malfoy,” Harry hisses, his neck starting to ache as he tries to keep his panic under control.

“If only I could,” Malfoy drawls, sounding bored, one eyebrow raised. Harry stills and glares at him again. It’s not his fault they’re stuck in a small room. A tiny room really. Barely enough room for the two of them to move. If Harry held his arm out he could touch Malfoy. Not that he wants to touch Malfoy. Not at the moment. He takes a deep breath, counting to ten in his head, just like Hermione told him to do when he’s panicking.

“There has to be some way out of here.” Harry shuffles around, running his hands along the wall, feeling the rough brick under his fingertips. There was a door here. There had been a door…

“Of course, Potter. Why didn’t we think of that twenty minutes ago when we first were trapped in here? Or fifteen minutes ago when you started to feel too hot? Or ten minutes ago when you realised that we could be trapped in here all night? Or five minutes ago when-”

“Yes, Malfoy. I got it,” Harry snaps. There was a door. It was right behind him when he’d first pushed into the room, almost falling into Malfoy before it slammed shut. Of course it had been there. He’d walked through it. And now he was here. In this small room. With Malfoy.

Harry takes a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest, his hands shaking as he clenches them together. It was all Malfoy’s fault. If he’s trusted Harry to go into the room first then Harry could have shoved him out. And then Malfoy could have gone for help to get Harry out of the room. And actually… now that Harry thinks about it, it was Malfoy’s tip that had led them to this fucking abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of London. Harry spins around, whacking Malfoy on the shoulder.

“What the fuck are you doing, Potter?” Malfoy spits, Harry’s name sounding strong and sharp on his tongue.

“This is your fucking fault! It was your tip who led us here. And now we’re stuck in this room, this tiny fucking room, and who knows when someone is going to…”

“Hey!” Malfoy shouts and Harry stops, his body quivering as he feels Malfoy’s hands tighten on his arms. He knows that normally this would feel nice, that he’d like it if Malfoy touched him, that he’d be blushing as he tried to hide how effected he was by how close Malfoy was.  
But this isn’t normally.

Malfoy moves closer and Harry can feel his heartbeat in his fingers, the whooshing in his ear drowning out anything else. Maybe he’s going to throw up. If he throws up in here it will definitely hit Malfoy and the Harry won’t hear the end of it. Malfoy gives him a small shake and Harry lifts his head, his eyes meeting Malfoy’s.

“Ok, good Potter. Nice of you to join the conversation.” Malfoy’s voice is soft, more soothing than normal and Harry tries to focus on looking into Malfoy’s eyes. “Ok… now you’re going to breathe for me. One deep breath in.” Malfoy’s voice sound’s strong and Harry thinks he nods before trying to take a deep breath. His throat tightens and his hands shake, his wand clacking on the floor as he drops it.

“I… I can’t…” Harry stutters, his head spinning, his clothes sticking to his back. Malfoy growls and moves his hands, wrapping them around Harry’s jaw and tilting it up so that Harry is forced to stare straight at him.

“Yes you can. You’re going to breathe with me. Ready?” Malfoy asks and Harry tries to nod, tears pricking the backs of his eyes as his throat closing more. Malfoy nods once, letting go of Harry’s jaw and placing one hand on Harry’s chest as the other rests on his arm. “Ok… and breathe in, one, two, three…” Malfoy takes a deep breath and Harry tries to copy him, his chest aching as he feels it expand under Malfoy’s hand. “And out, one two, three,” Malfoy murmurs, breathing out slowly, his warm breath tickling Harry’s face and drying the sweat on Harry’s upper lip.

After a few moment of Draco breathing in and out with him, Harry feels his heart slow down. He wriggles slightly and Malfoy nods, letting go of his chest as Harry continues taking slightly shuddery breaths.

“Malfoy…” Harry stutters and Malfoy’s long fingers run over his clothes, tugging at his Auror robes.

“You’re too hot, Potter… we need to take these off…” Malfoy’s voice is low and Harry tries to nod, tries to tell Malfoy that it’s ok. But Malfoy either doesn’t understand him, or thinks he’s knows better because his fingers start to undo the buttons of Harry’s robes, quickly loosening their hold on Harry. “Just… keep breathing Potter.” Harry gulps down a breath and Malfoy stops, his grey eyes piercing into Harry and Harry tries to take a step back. He needs space. He needs to move. He needs to get out of this fucking cupboard.

“Malfoy…” Harry gasps and Malfoy’s hands are instantly on him, his fingers running through Harry’s hair. If they were anywhere else Harry would be fucking ecstatic that Malfoy was this close, smelling like fucking soap and expensive aftershave. But they aren’t they’re in a fucking cupboard. He wriggles, his eyes clenched shut, his arms pushing at Malfoy, his back scratching against the wall behind him.

“Harry!” Malfoy shouts and Harry stills, his eyes snapping open and stares at Malfoy. Malfoy’s eyes are almost blue in the glow from their wands. It strikes Harry that that’s a weird thing to notice. Malfoy takes a deep breath and Harry follows with him, stuck in his gaze, breathing in and out. After a moment Malfoy nods, seemingly pleased with himself, and pulls Harry’s robes off him, dropping them to the floor.

Cool air flows over Harry’s back as Malfoy sends a drying spell over his wet tshirt. He moves his arms to wrap around himself, trying to stop himself from shaking. Malfoy places his hands back on Harry’s arms, rubbing in small circles and making a weird small humming sound. Harry closes his eyes and focuses on the sound, taking deep breaths and trying to forget the small space that they’re in.

“Thanks…” Harry mutters, his skin still itching and his mind whirring, but feeling calmer than before. “Uh… when did you…?”

“We’ve been partners for three years, Potter, I know what makes you panic, and I know what to do to calm you down.” Malfoy sighs and Harry opens his eyes to look at Malfoy shrug, the movement somehow elegant. Harry nods and tries to take a step back but his back collides with the wall, the bump sending a shiver through him, his chest tightening again. Malfoy gives his arm a squeeze and he nods. He’s ok. He’s ok. He clenches his eyes shut.

“Maybe… Ron will come and find us…” Harry mutters and he hears Draco huff out lightly.

“Potter, Weasley is at the shop. He isn’t going to come look for you for no reason…” Malfoy’s voice is soft but clear. It’s the voice he uses to talk to people they’re interviewing. Harry runs his hands over the wall behind him, trying to think. He has to think. What would Hermione do in this situation? Hermione.

“Hermione!” Harry opens his eyes, looking pointedly at Malfoy, “Hermione will come and look for me when I don’t meet her for lunch and then she’ll be able to figure it out and come and find us!” Harry feels the excitement bubble in his stomach. He spins and runs his hands over the wall. Yes. Yes, Hermione will come. Hermione will save him. Hermione always saves him.

“Potter?” Malfoy’s voice is small as Harry feels long fingers brush over his shoulder, “Potter, Granger is on her maternity leave, remember. It’s her first week? She’s not going to be coming to see you for lunch…” Harry closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall. No. No. Hermione has to come. She has to…  
He runs his hands over the wall again, looking for a crack, his feet kicking his still lit wand into the corner of the room. It’s too small. He can’t be in there. He feels his throat tighten again, his hands shaking. No, breathe. Malfoy said to breathe. Malfoy said…

“No!” Harry shouts, banging his hands against the brick. He knows they’re scratched but his head feels dizzy and there’s a rushing in his ears and he’s never going to get out of this fucking cupboard.

He doesn’t register Malfoy’s hand on his shoulder until his back is being slammed against the wall and Malfoy’s lips are pressed against his. His brain stops for a moment, not sure what to do. Malfoy’s lips are soft and warm and exactly like he thought they would be the million times he’s stared at them whilst Malfoy spoke. He’s just getting used to the idea of Malfoy’s lips on his when the git moves away.

“What was that?” Harry asks, his voice a whisper.

“That was a kiss, Potter.” Malfoy raises on eyebrow, his face so close to Harry’s that Harry can feel their noses bump. Their breath mixes together, Harry’s head filling with the smell of Malfoy. 

“Why?” Harry stutters, his brain not entirely engaging with his mouth. He can feel Malfoy’s chest, hard against his own, Malfoy’s thick thigh pressed between Harry’s legs, the pressure on his balls making his cock harden.

“Because shouting your name wasn’t distracting enough…” Malfoy’s hands run down Harry’s side, sending charges of energy through him, settling between his legs. Shuffling slightly, his cock starts to ache against the zip of his jeans. He closes his eyes as Malfoy’s fingers lace with his, and his brain shorts out for a moment. Fuck, it feels good.

“So… so that’s all this is? A distraction?” He can hear his voice cracking, thick with lust.

“No… this is because we’ve both wanted it for years, and now seemed like as good a time as any.” Malfoy’s voice rumbles through him and Harry gasps as he feels Malfoy’s lips brush against his. He squeezes Malfoy’s hands, warmth radiating from where his skin is touching Malfoy’s. Harry feels a lump in his throat at thought of the rest of them touching, their skin sliding next to each other as Malfoy…

“You… you wanted this?” Harry breathes, his eyes closing, his mind fuzzy. His heart beats hard in his chest and he tries to think about why that is. There was something wrong… something before Malfoy made it very, very right.

“What, you can’t tell Potter?” Malfoy’s voice is heavy and smooth as he presses forward, his hard cock pressing against Harry’s, making a small moan escape from the back of Harry’s throat. He can’t help as his hips rock forward, his back grazing against the hard wall. Right. Because they’re trapped in a small room.

“That might not be me… you might have some weird kink about being trapped in tiny…”

Harry doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Malfoy’s mouth is on his, Malfoy’s tongue running along his lip. Harry can’t help but open his mouth, his tongue running along Malfoy’s, tasting the sweet heat of Malfoy. His mind buzzing with energy and need and want. He moves his hands, running them along Malfoy’s body, feeling his muscles under his Auror robes.

“No talking about where we are Potter,” Malfoy mumbles into his mouth and Harry thinks he nods. Pressing forward, his arms wrap around Malfoy’s neck as Malfoy’s slide around his waist, pulling him closer, tighter. Harry feels his hips jerking forward, searching for some friction and Malfoy moans into his mouth.

Harry’s hands move to the front of Malfoy’s robes, his fingers fumbling with the buttons as Malfoy grinds their hips together. The friction against Harry’s cock sending shivers of desire through him. Malfoy’s robes drop to the floor and Harry’s cock throbs at the feel of Malfoy’s hard planes, the ridges of muscle on Malfoy’s chest as Harry runs his hands over Malfoy’s body. This isn’t real. It can’t be real. Malfoy can’t want him like this. Glancing up he sees the genuine smile on Malfoy’s face.

“Fuck… Malfoy,” Harry breathes, pulling away to look at the way Malfoy’s shirt stretches over his chest, his trousers bulging in the front. Malfoy takes the moment to pull Harry’s shirt over his head, the cold air of the room making Harry shiver. Malfoy smirks, his eyes dark, the glow from Harry’s discarded wand making Malfoy look more angular, more defined. Harry groans, surging forwards, his lips finding the delicious curve of Malfoy’s jaw.

Malfoy grunts and moves to undo his shirt, dropping it to the floor, the first slide of warm skin against Harry’s making him moan. Tugging at Harry’s hair, Malfoy moves his head up so that their lips can meet, hot and perfect. Fuck it’s perfect. He feels Malfoy smile into his mouth and he runs his hands over the solid muscles of Malfoy’s back, feeling them ripple. Undoing their trousers, Malfoy shoves at their clothes, trousers and pants pooling at their feet. Long fingers wrap around their cocks, pressing them together tightly and Harry can’t control his hips as they rock, the slick feeling of Malfoy’s smooth skin against his own making him dizzy.

Malfoy continues to stroke them, their pre-come mixing, as his tongue strokes against Harry’s. Harry’s heart jumps, his hands running through Malfoy’s hair, the silky strands sliding through his fingers. Somewhere in his brain he reminds himself to keep this image in his mind. He wants to remember the feel of Malfoy’s hair, his hand, his tongue. The pressure starts to build in the pit of Harry’s stomach, his balls tightening and he scratches his nails across Malfoy’s back, pulling him closer, their hard chests pressing together.

“Please… Malfoy, please…” Harry whimpers into Malfoy’s mouth, his hole fluttering as he feels Malfoy’s fingers dig into his hip, keeping their bodies together and he brings them closer to the edge.

“What do you want, Harry?” Malfoy breathes as his mouth moves to Harry’s neck, Harry’s name sounding important on his lips. 

“I want…” Harry’s mind whirrs. What does he want? His body thrums with energy and he presses against Malfoy. There’s something. Something that Harry had wanted a minute ago. But right now all he can think about is the feel of Malfoy against him, finally kissing him, finally touching him and all he wants is for Malfoy to go further, to touch more. “I want you to fuck me. I want to feel you in me.” Harry breathes, enjoying the way that Malfoy’s breath hitches.

Malfoy pulls back for a moment, his hand stilling and Harry suddenly feel nervous. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. Maybe Malfoy doesn’t want to do that. Maybe…

“Fuck, Harry…” Malfoy lets go of their cocks and spins Harry around, casting a cushioning charm against the wall as he presses Harry against it, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.” Harry’s heart jumps and he presses back against Malfoy, feeling Malfoy’s hard length against his arse. 

“How long?” Harry murmurs, his eyes clenched shut as he hears Malfoy mutter a spell. Malfoy’s fingers, slick with lube, stroke between his cheeks and he loses all ability to think.

“Years…” Malfoy whispers, pressing the tip of one finger to Harry’s hole. Harry holds back a hiss as Malfoy’s finger breaches him, the soft burn rare enough that it sends a shock right through him. Harry pushes back, needing to feel Malfoy – Draco, he guesses, now that they’re doing this – inside him. He feels Draco’s other hand tighten on his arse cheek, separating them as his finger presses deeper, pausing at each knuckle to allow Harry to adjust.

“Years, huh?” Harry pants as Draco sits, one finger pressed entirely inside him, his body shaking for more, “you think now it’s happening that you wanna go a little faster?” He looks over his shoulder to see Draco chuckle, beautiful in the soft glow of the Lumos. Draco’s eyes glint and he feels a warmth spread through him, knowing what is about to happen.

Draco pulls his finger out, the slow movement sending a spark of pain through Harry that pushes into pleasure as Draco slides back into him, two fingers pressing this time. Harry clenches his fists, forcing himself not to touch his cock. It’ll be better later if he doesn’t. Pleasure runs through him as Draco strokes into him, curling his fingers and brushing against the gland inside him. His hips jerk backwards, needing more of Draco in him. Draco leans over, pressing soft kisses to his shoulders and he stretches his arm to run his fingers through Draco’s hair. 

“Fuck, Harry… you feel amazing,” Draco whispers into his back, nuzzling, his fingers moving languidly, stretching Harry open, making his heart pound and his legs weak.

“Please, Draco… I need you… I need you in me,” Harry groans and he hears Draco huff behind him, Draco’s breath tickling his skin, before sliding his fingers out of him. A deep guttural growl leaves Harry’s mouth at the empty feeling, his hole pulsing around nothing. Gasping, he feels Draco’s cock, hard and blunt and impossibly hot, pressing against him. He arches his back, his body shaking as Draco’s arm wraps around him, holding him steady as Draco’s cock pops past the tight ring of muscle.

Draco pauses for a moment, breathing heavily against Harry’s back, the two of them slick with sweat. After a moment the burn disappears, leaving Harry aching to feel full. He pushes back, the delicious slide of Draco’s skin against his making his stomach twist. Draco leans his head between Harry’s shoulder blades before sliding in a little more. Harry moans as Draco stills again, letting him adjust to the feeling of Draco’s cock in him. His own stands, achingly hard and his hands clench in Draco’s hair, forcing him not to touch himself, knowing that it’ll be worth the wait.

“Ok?” Draco breathes and Harry nods, shifting his hips, needing Draco to start moving. He feels Draco nodding against his back, shaking slightly, before starting to move. Harry feels Draco’s legs brush against the back of his, pleasure running through him as Draco rolls his hips. Clenching his eyes, breathing deeply as his chest tightens, he focuses on the slide of Draco against him.

Draco’s hands move down his side, sending shivers through him, before Draco’s long, elegant fingers wrap around Harry’s cock. The harsh ache disappears as Draco moves his hand. Harry cries out, the whimpers escaping his mouth as Draco rocks him closer. His balls tighten as Draco pumps into him hitting his prostate with each thrust, Draco’s hand moving in time with his thrusts.

“Come for me, Harry,” Draco purrs, and Harry does, his come splattering against the wall in thick pearly stripes. He gasps as the overwhelming rush of pleasure runs through him, his legs heavy and numb, being held up by Draco’s strong arms around him. Draco pounds into him before there’s a loud groan as Draco’s release fills him. After a moment Harry wriggles, cold washing over him as his sweat dries and Draco softens in him. Harry is vaguely aware of Draco muttering a cleaning charm as his brain starts to focus again.

“Draco…” Harry turns in Draco’s arm and Draco laughs, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“You’re not going to start panicking again are you? Because it’s going to take me a few minutes before I can go again.”

“Uh…” Harry murmurs before looking around the room and remembering where he is. He feels his throat start to tighten and suddenly Draco’s hands are in his hair, his soft, warm lips pressing against Harry’s. Harry closes his eyes, thoughts of Draco lying on his bed, all alabaster skin and white blonde hair, his cock hard and ready for Harry running through his mind. Ignoring his tight throat, ignoring where they are, Harry leans into the kiss.

Something behind him shifts and he squeaks, jumping forward, his arms tightening around Draco. His head whips around as light floods the room, his eyes wide as he sees a door, wide open. Draco cackles against him as Harry stares at his best friend, the red on Ron’s face clashing horribly with his hair, his mouth hanging open. Draco moves, standing taller, still pressed against Harry. Harry glances at him, his stomach twisting pleasantly at the smirk on Draco’s face.

“Uh… Hermione said that you always go for lunch, so I thought I’d come instead…” Ron splutters, “And then you weren’t there so…”

“Well, Potter, what do you know? Weasley did randomly leave work to come and find you,” Draco drawls and Harry chokes on air. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind turning around Weasley, unless you’d like us to exit the room naked?” Ron makes a weird strangled sound and jumps back, turning around. Harry looks past him to see Kingsley with a wry smile on his face and a very pregnant Hermione, one eyebrow raised, looking smug.

“Draco…” Harry mutters, not really sure what to say, feeling awkward. Draco’s arms tighten around him and his head bends so that Harry feels his breath again his ear.

“Later, Harry,” Draco whispers, “later.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are seen, read and loved. Thanks for reading!


End file.
